My Lion
by TheHogwartsActress
Summary: For Mew & Mor's Weird Pairings. Oneshot Femmeslash. Slytherin Ice, Gryfindor Fire. They Shouldn't work, They Do Work. They Merge. But they Break. And War Breaks Things To.So why Did They Meet, Why Did They Stop. Because she is a Lion. Slytherins Lion. R&R


**A/N Hello everyone, this is my final piece for Mew and Mor's Weird Pairings Challenge over at the HPFC. If you write this, give them some mention as they discovered this (along with lots of other awesomely weird pairs) pairing. I don't really own anything as this is FANficton.**

**Commence the reading :D **

Daphne Greengrass, the Slytherin Ice Princess, and Lavender Brown, The Gryfindor Goddess; or that's what Lavender wanted people to think anyway. They couldn't be friends, they couldn't be anything.

But, they were. Bit by bit it crept up on them.

Once a week, they met in an abandoned classroom. It was an accident really; Lavender had been upset, livid. Her precious 'Won- Won' had deserted her, in floods of despair she had crept to a disused classroom, and placed the strongest locking charm she knew on its doors. This hadn't pleased the Slytherin, lurking in the corner.

No, Daphne was pissed. Especially when Lavender refused to remove the blasted charm, because she just "Couldn't be arsed." When Lavender had come to cry, she wasn't going to move, or let anyone else. Even when the princess shot daggers through her piercing blue eyes, it was a no. And no one had ever said no to a pissed off Daphne

They both remembered the words clearly.

"_Fucking open this Fucking door, you whining bitch" Daphne had screamed at the resolute Gryfindor, who merely raised her eyebrow at the girl before deciding to answer._

"_Why can't you?" her tone was bored, but it conveyed the right amount of contempt she felt towards the Slytherin._

"_I forgot my wand on my midnight stroll, so – open – this – door." She screamed back at Lavender, punctuating the last four words with violent jabs in the doors direction. _

"_Not very clever." retorted the sad eyed girl, her tone definitely mocking, "Anyway, if I want to mope over a boy, then you aren't going to stop me."_

_Daphne made a noise halfway between a growl and a scream, before all the steam ran out of her, she just collapsed on to a nearby desk, before muttering to herself "Yeah, well all boys are fucking idiots anyway."_

From that moment they bonded. That night was spent recalling tales of all the times they'd been screwed over by lads. The next week on the same day, at the same time, they both wandered towards that area "Subconsciously" they told themselves. In the exact same classroom they both met, the awkwardness was palpable, but the two girls soon mustered the courage to get over it.

They didn't mean it to carry on so much, but it did. They never really spoke about why they met, or how they supposedly hated each other. Though, to Lavender at least, it was beginning to feel a lot more like love. The conversation in that room barely mattered, though they did have a surprising amount in common, it was each other's company that they both craved.

Another memory stood out clearly to the both of them through the swirling mass of thoughts in their brain.

_Summer. Though it was past midnight, the air still hung humid and stiflingly hot. The two girls were lying on the floor, looking at the cracked ceiling above them. They weren't talking, only listening, only feeling. The Gryfindor was tired, and hot from the crazy heat in the enclosed classroom. She rolled across, half asleep, and found her head settled somewhere soft and comforting. She had managed to manoeuvre herself into the Slytherin girls lap. Lavender blushed furiously; tilting her head upwards to make sure the Ice princess wasn't going to attack her. But ... Daphne had an amazing expression on her pale face; she was smiling and absentmindedly running her fingers through Lavenders dark blonde hair. No one had seen Daphne smile like that in a long time._

That was one of the nicest memories they knew, filled with hope and happiness. But other memories had stayed with them too. Bad memories. The memory of the last night that they met in that room.

_The girls were sat together on the floor of the classroom. Lavender was laying backwards, her soft hair in Daphne's lap, the Slytherin girl was gently caressing the golden strands; braiding them with affectionate fingers. All wasn't right though. The Gryfindor could tell; from the way the black haired girl's hands were lightly shaking, and her expression (which was usually calm, happy and relaxed) was tense and faraway, as if she was contemplating important things that she hated to think about._

"_Daph," commented the girl, whose face was the very picture of concern, she had lifted her head from the soft lap to look the other girl in the eyes "Are you okay?"_

_The Slytherin looked dazed, as if she had awoken from a dream, a nightmare. She stared down at the Gryfindor's cinnamon shaded eyes. Daphne sighed, it was a weighty sigh that conveyed a feeling of pain, of loss. But loss of what?_

"_Do you ever wonder why we do this?" blurted out the pale girl. She turned away as soon as she said, to avoid looking at the hurt in the other girls beautiful eyes. It wasn't just hurt in Lavender's eyes, it was confusion. Yes, they both didn't know why they met, but if it felt so right, so good, why should they stop? It was these moments that allowed the blonde to be truly happy, even if she didn't exactly understand why. Maybe the rest of the school, their own houses would hate them, but by this point Lavender didn't care at all, but did Daphne? She shared all this with the Slytherin, whose eyes were getting smaller and smaller. Most people would believe it was from anger, but Lavender felt she knew the black haired girl so well she could tell it was to stop the tears from spilling over._

"_I don't won't to lose everything." Whispered Daphne so quietly, the other girl almost didn't hear. The Slytherin may have been the princess of her house; but her crown was slipping. Her family wasn't Death Eaters, or Death Eater supporters, they were one of the very few neutrals, who were purebloods too. They needed to be, the Greengrass family ran a huge chain of apothecary stores, and this made them unbelievably rich. They dealt with both the light and the dark side and, for now, You-Know-Who was ignoring their unwillingness to join his side; he needed what they supplied. The fact she was so rich, and her smouldering beauty, was some of the main reasons she was the top girl. But, with the war seeming inevitable, the junior death eaters (which seemed to be most, if not all of her house) were becoming restless with her families neutral state. Her right hand women, or "best friend", though you can't really have one in Slytherin, Tracey Davis was waiting to take her position at the first chance she had. That was she got for being a Slytherin._

_The war scared her to; she didn't want to join the dark, but she didn't want to die either. "I don't know what to do. The war is coming, this can't work anymore. We can't be together." She continued with, after a long silence. The last four words, she turned her head towards the Gryfindor. Suddenly Daphne's silvery eyes were burning into the other girls, like lasers searching for the answers._

_Lavenders eyes were burning too, with anger and repressed pain. "Fine!" she shouted at the pale girl in front of her "You might as well just say you hate me!" her eyes were stormy now, anger lacing her features. "I'm willing to risk things to just talk to you, but if you won't bother. Maybe I shouldn't." The last words were trailing of, as she turned to storm from the room._

"_Lav," Daphne was suddenly having a change of heart, she didn't want to see the blonde's head walk out of the door, no matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise. "I don't want to ..." her sentences were half formed, she couldn't get it out "Don't leave ... I can't ... no ... Lav."_

_But the Gryfindor was already out of the door._

That was the last time they properly spoke, near the end of sixth year. The next year was torture for both of them, literally for one. Lavender lived through the pain of the Carrow's punishment, striving to help others, before eventually descending into hiding with the DA in the Room of Requirement. Daphne lived with pretending. Pretending that she liked the Carrows, pretending she did want to rebel Snape's rule. Pretending she didn't care about the pain the Gryfindor Goddess was in. Pretending she didn't want to reach over and touch the fresh scars on the blonde's body, to kiss them better.

Then came the day Harry arrived at Hogwarts.

The battle of Hogwarts began. The Slytherins had been exiled, they wouldn't fight on the side of the light, so they had to leave. But Daphne stayed. Sneaking from the crowd of mumbling Death-Eater wannabes, she discarded anything that may be the telltale green, her tie, and her jumper. This was the time to decide. Her family was neutral, but she wasn't anymore.

In the midst of the fighting, who would notice Slytherin's Princess, fighting for Gryfindor values. No one recognised the Greengrass Heiress fighting her father's valued customers. She shot spells at the invading forces; she was cool and calculated, killing the intruders one by one. Small and lithe, she flitted in the shadows, using the reflexes that would have won her the team's seeker position if sexism wasn't thriving in her house. But, her main time was spent defending the castle from Dementors. The hooded creatures were floating towards Hogwarts, hands outstretched and mouths open; ready to suck all happiness from the world. And their stood the defender. She pulled all her fondest memories; Laughing with Lavender in the abandoned classroom, huddling with Lavender with a small bluebell flame in the middle of winter, the first time Lavender lay on her lap, and the many more times she continued to do so. The memories, so powerful in their happiness, sent a corporal Patronus heading straight towards the mass of black. Its silvery tail flicking back and forth, it'd mouth opened as if in a silent roar. It charged the Dementors down.

When Voldemort (she couldn't not call him by his real name, not if she was fighting him) called the battle to be done; if only Harry Potter came. The lone Slytherin was left relatively unharmed, some scratches and scars, but nothing major. She didn't really want to face the mourning in the Great Hall, she would be singled out and her reception would be frosty, but the one person she cared about had fought, she had to reassure herself that Lavender was fine, and then she would leave till the fighting resumed.

She wanted to make a quick entrance and exit; sneak in, make sure that Lav was okay, and out. No scene, no fuss.

This plan disappeared when she saw the body.

From her vantage point all she could make out was a few dirty blonde curls, but she would know them anywhere. She was running full tilt down the silent hall, sad and angry faces turned to glair at the unwelcome girl, disturbing their mourning. She reached the stretcher; the girl who lay upon had a peaceful look on her face. But, her body was crisscrossed with cuts, they ran the length of her arms, and disappeared down her ripped robes. A large scar, a startlingly red against the creaminess of the girl's skin, stood out on her elegant neck.

The scene was looked on with shock. The battle-weary and saddened people were astonished, the hard-hearted assumed "dark" Slytherin, was unashamedly crying over the body of someone she should hate. An Indian girl sat kneeling to the side of the broken girl, watching an equally broken Daphne stare imploringly into unmoving eyes. She didn't glare like the others. No. She understood now, she could see that the person her best friend had been sneaking off to see wasn't a handsome Gryfindor boy, but this beautiful Slytherin girl. She didn't begrudge her it, but felt only sorrow as she gazed upon the body of the girl she had secretly loved.

Then there was a hint. A hint of movement. A hint of Life.

The delicate eyelids were fluttering, the Gryfindor's hand, encased in the grasp of the mourning Slytherin was twitching. She gasped gently, her eyelids shooting open. The first thing she saw was clear blue eyes looking at her with wonderment, but the evidence of tears lingered down her smooth skin.

"Daph?" she croaked out "No!" suddenly she was wide awake, she knew what had happened, what she had become. "Get away, Greyback, bite." Her words were jumbling together, she drew a few deep breaths, "I'm a werewolf. We can't, everyone has to stay away."

She was crying now, the tears falling, a voluntary outcast was what she must become. But Daphne wouldn't listen. Her mind was angry, when the battle commenced again she had a target, and she would seek it out. The murderous werewolf would die. She turned her attention quickly, back to the scarred Gryfindor.

"You're not a Werewolf Lav, You're my Lion."

And with that, she gently closed the gap and place a gentle, loving kiss on her Lips.

**A/N So did you enjoy it? I find myself slightly falling in love with this couple, they seem so different but right. Should I write more of this pairing, your thoughts on that would be nice. Just to say, I hope I did alright, as this is my first go at femmeslash. Thanks to Mew and Mor for broadening my writing topics ;D**


End file.
